


His

by midnightsheart



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Captivity, Dark Tom Riddle, F/M, Post-War, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-04-15 03:39:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14151144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightsheart/pseuds/midnightsheart
Summary: He kissed her neck, her jaw, her cheek and finally found her ear. Lightly he nibbled at her earlobe, once again making her body shiver in anticipation for what was coming. How she hated her own traitorous body to react in such a way to his possessive touches. To his lovely small kisses. To his attentions.- A night which shows him how she is slowly falling in love with the devil.





	His

**Author's Note:**

> Hello guys, so I do not know how it happened or why but this is just smut. With little to none plot because I just wanted to write a little smutty fanfic. Hope you are enjoying it as much as I while writing it. If you want this to continue I might think about it. And as always; my first language is not english and this fic has no beta reader, there are for sure plenty of grammatical issues, I am sorry! But have fun!

Looking at her reflection in the golden antique mirror a sigh left Hermiones rose lips. She studied her hair which was styled perfectly into silky curls framing her face. _Just the way he liked it_. She guided a delicate hand to her lips and touched them noticing how plump and enticing they were. Her eyes found hers in the mirror and her dark lashes fluttered at the emptiness of her dark brown iris, no feelings, no emotions, _nothing_. Her eyes went to the neckline of her beautiful silk garment, a creamy colour, _innocent, how he loved her the most_. The silky material clung perfectly to her curves, hugging her form flattering.

She closed her eyes when she heard him approaching her. A shiver ran trough her whole body when he touched her shoulders, pressing himself against her back. His right hand softly stroked her curls to one side so he could place his chin on her right shoulder. He kissed her neck, her jaw, her cheek and finally found her ear. Lightly he nibbled at her earlobe, once again making her body shiver in anticipation for what was coming. How she hated her own traitorous body to react in such a way to his possessive touches. To his lovely small kisses. To his _attentions_. „You look beautiful, Hermione“, he whispered in her ear while his hands explored her curves, resting at her breasts, cupping and lightly massaging them trough the silk, making her gasp and press herself into his slender hands. At her reaction he chuckled darkly, nuzzling her neck, kissing the sensitive spot between the juncture of neck and shoulder, breathing in her scent which sent blood straight to his groin.

„ _Open your eyes, my dear_ “, his deep voice ordered her and immediately she obeyed, knowing that a punishment would follow if she did not. She had have enough of his punishments. Always losing against him, losing the rest of the dignity she had left. Losing the last part of her sanity to him.  
She watched him while he watched her, while his captivating grey eyes roamed over her delicate face features, to her lips he loved to kiss, to her hair he desired to yank until she screamed in a breathtaking delight, her neck he enjoyed to grab tightly, to squeeze lightly and to show her in that way that he was in charge. That he had power over her. _That he was her master._ And while he appreciated her beauty she did the same. She saw his soft lips curled into a satisfied smirk, saw his pointed straight nose, his strong jawline and his silky dark locks. It hurt her that someone so beautiful was so cold, hateful and sadistic. That someone who assembled the looks of a greek god was the devil himself.

„We are perfection, Hermione“, his melodious voice whispered while his left hand slowly wandered to her throat, fingers lightly caressing her smooth skin, „We are power“, he placed a kiss on her cheek, grabbed her throat, „We are everything you need in your life. _I am everything_ , you understand?“. His voice was light, caressing but at the same time demanding and threatening like the deadly grip around her throat.  
She whimpered and placed her left hand on his which was still holding her neck in a tight grip, showing his dominance, his authority. Lightly her fingers caressed his strong hand, trying to calm him down so she would not be on the receiving end of his hand tonight. Turning her head to her right side, pointing her chin downwards and looking into his grey eyes she whispered softly against his lips, „I am yours, my lord. And I will always be“. Her voice was empty, defeated but beautiful to his ears. She kissed him carefully when she saw the little glimmer of satisfaction in his abyssal eyes.

„Stand“, he commanded her and she obeyed. Standing in front the impressive mirror her eyes once again found his. _Desire_. With a flick of his hand the chair she was occupying moments ago flunk to the side so he could press his full body against her back. His dark eyes never left hers while his hands glided down her body, caressing every part. His fingertips found the thin strips resting on her shoulders, lightly sliding them down her arms making her silky gown glide to the floor and leaving her in nothing than perfectly white lace panties, baring her body to his view. Appreciative his eyes floated along her curves, studying any part of her body.  
„ _Beautiful_ “, he breathed against her cheek, his left hand cupped her breast while his right hand grasped her chin and forced her head once again to the right side. He kissed her. Hard. Passionately. _Possessive_.

Suddenly she was facing him, his arms encircling her, grabbing her waist in a bruising manner, yanking at her curls, making her gasp and shiver. He guided them trough the impressive room to their fourposter bed, pushing her down and admiring the witch beneath him. Her flustered state, her kiss swollen lips, her small and perfect body which just perfectly fitted to his. _Oh, how he loved her in this state._ Because he could still see it in her eyes, the self hate, the defiance between the desire and love. „Touch yourself, Hermione“, his voice now rough with arousal commanded while he stared down at the beautiful witch. At _his_ beautiful witch. Tom saw how her small delicate hand shyly glided down her body, playing with her breast, pinching her nipple knowing that this was what he would do to her. His body was on fire. With greedy eyes he followed the hesitant move of her hand down her flat belly to her panties shoving them to the side so her hand could slip inside and caress.

Her eyes were hooded, her pupils blown, her cheeks flushed, her breath becoming unsteady while she mewled his name in delight, „ _Tom_ …“. A dark groan left his throat and he touched himself watching her pleasuring herself while once in a while moaning his name. And he _stroked_. „Tell me, Hermione“, his deep voice interrupted her pleasure, „Are you wet for me?“. Another moan left her plump lips when she circled her clit, „Yes, my lord“, she used his beloved honorific and he had to discipline himself to not lose his composure and so he just growled lowly, „Show it to me“. And she did. Her fingers left her needy flesh to grab the waistband of her panties and to glide them down her body. She spreaded her legs and made him moan while his eyes took in the glistering of her arousal.

„Sit up, my dear“, his dark and melodious voice was rougher but still it was demanding. Immediately she did like she was told and her hands found the zipper of his black trousers when he positioned himself right in front of her. He looked down at her, desire clearly written in his face and he once again was delighted by how obedient his little war price was. Her fingers found his erection, lightly she stroked, opened her mouth and took him in, making him hiss in pleasure. Her lips were devouring his member, _kissing, liking, sucking_. Her eyes were big looking right into his while his hand was lost in her curls, guiding her, his hips jerked forwards, making her gag. But Lord Voldemort was a man who controlled every situation. Ignoring he discomfort he trusted into her mouth, groaning, while holding her head in place. „ _Touch yourself, my beautiful mudblood_ “, he commanded with his rough voice between heavy breathing. Her hands found her nether regions and once again she caressed, moaning while he used her mouth, ignoring his insult because she knew that this was his way to tell her that he was in power.

He looked down at her, breathing heavy and appreciating her obedience. Suddenly he grabbed her shoulders and pushed her on the soft mattress. A surprised gasp left her lips and she shrieked when he took her arm and yanked her around so she was laying on her stomach. She heard the rustling of his trousers, knowing what was coming next when he hoisted her rare up and positioned himself. With one heavy thrust he buried himself deep inside her, groaning while she mewled in lust. She hated how her body reacted to his.  
His thrusts were hard, his hands bruising while holding her in place by her hips. The wet sound of their sexes satisfied him as did Hermiones moaning. He grabbed a fistful of her curls, _yanking, pushing, thrusting painfully but oh so delightful_. His right hand flattened on her back, caressing her cheek and suddenly slapping her, making her yelp in pain. Mesmerised he looked at the red spot he had created with his hand and once again smacked hard, appreciating the tightening of Hermiones walls around him when he did so.

He wanted to see her. Within seconds he withdrew from her body, making her whimper in denial and spun her around so he could look into her beautiful lust filled eyes, see her blushed cheeks and admire her body. Tom took her legs and let them rest on his broad shoulders while he once again thrusted himself in her welcoming heat, fixing his gaze to their joined bodies and observing with dark satisfaction how his glistering erection glided in and out of her wanting heat. „ _Please_ …“, her soft pleading reached his ears and a self-satisfied smirk adored his handsome features because he knew what she wanted. Roughly he pushed inside her, his fingers finding her clit, stroking, caressing, making her his in this way.

„Tom!“, she cried out his name while he also came with a final rough thrust and a loud groan inside her body. He let himself fall against her, enjoying her soft breast against his face while her fingers found his hair, stroking it lightly. _A loving gesture._ And he smirked against her flesh because never had he dreamed that Hermione Granger, Potters intelligent mudblood, smartest witch of Hogwarts would fall in love with him. That she would give him the power to control her body and her mind. To infect her with his darkness. And he knew that there was still light inside that beautiful witch, that she still fought against her attraction to him, that her defiance would never flatter wholly. But when he lifted himself up by his elbows and looked in her face, in her brown eyes which showed him the truth of her feelings and the empty state because her failure, he knew it.

_She was his._

_**___** _


End file.
